Green, Green Eyes
by RainbowSerenity
Summary: [Oneshot, AkuRoku] They met with the passing seasons, only having a smoke in common. He came with a light, and little by little left behind those green, green eyes.


_**Green, Green Eyes**_

The first time their eyes met, it was snowing, just a simple flurry, but enough to chill Roxas down to his bones. He'd seen the guy around before, as just one of those passerby's that ignored his presence, as so many humans did with each other. It was a sad, sick world.

Though for some reason, it seemed even sadder when it snowed.

It was odd; Roxas had always read stories and seen movies where the first snowfall of the season was happy and joyous, everybody in anticipation for the holidays to come and filling their hearts with warm, fuzzy feelings.

This was hardly the case now. It was after Christmas; it was practically New Year's Eve, and the snow was no longer welcome. Snowflakes drifted around everybody's hair like a veil compressing sadness. Snow was cold and utterly pointless after the holidays, so why did Mother Nature even bother?

Roxas watched all the people walk down the street in their bulky black coats—nowadays it was too much of an effort to dress in anything else—while the snow gathered in his scalp and melted in his hair. He tried to look inconspicuous towards anybody that might recognize him; after all, he was now rather popular with the parents since his own mother had won school board president in their county's elections earlier that year. He stuck one earpiece to the headphones of his Ipod in his left ear; the volume was turned way down so that he could only hear the background music of whatever was playing—he didn't really know or care.

The blond slowly pulled a cigarette from his pocket, fiddling in his other one for a lighter. He stuck the cancer stick in his mouth, flicking the lighter a few times and becoming royally pissed when his discovered all the fluid was gone. Damnit, now what? He'd snuck away from his overbearing mother and walked as far as he possibly could into town so nobody would recognize the School Board President's Kid smoking.

Damnit, damnit, damnit. He briefly wondered if there was someplace he could buy another lighter, or even some matches, when another dig through his pockets quickly reminded him that he was broke. Fuck. He beat the wall behind him in frustration, the stick still hanging out of his mouth.

Then there was a flame in front in him, and suddenly, those green, green eyes, greener than anything he'd ever seen before. At once he inhaled, smoke filling his lungs, warming him from the inside, yet still feeling oddly dissatisfying. After he exhaled, he looked up into those green eyes. "Thanks."

The guy's hair was as red as his eyes were green; strikingly vibrant. It almost made you not notice his thin, boney form; the strange, diamond-shaped face tattoos; or the lingering bruise that stained his collar. Roxas vaguely wondered if there were any more bruises under that long, black coat, but the guy's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"No problem. Get your own fucking light, though, 'cause next time I won't be around."

Roxas opened his mouth to argue, letting the cigarette fall from his mouth and in between his left index and middle fingers, but before he could explain that his lighter was out of fluid, he had no money for another; the guy had snuffed his own smoke out on the wet, cold ground and left, taking those green eyes with him.

--

The next time their eyes met, it was spring and the last of the snow was finally melting. It was finally warm enough to be outside without a jacket, and he and Hayner had cut school because of that fact. Not that they were outside; they were at the mall, relishing at the emptiness of the usually crowded arcade.

Well, now they were outside, Hayner frowning as Roxas took his smoke break. He felt almost guilty at the little white tendrils curling into the air that seemed so fresh and clean; springlike—but he couldn't help it. It was a habit.

While Hayner was busy complaining, Roxas stood against the wall, which was warm from the day's sunlight beating against it, and took a deep drag. Hayner then suddenly said something about getting more quarters, or whatever, and opened the door back into the mall, nearly colliding with someone else who was coming out. The blond looked over, nearly falling over in shock at those green, green eyes that had suddenly found him.

The redhead smirked, pulling a smoke from the pocket of his baggy black jeans. "I see you finally got a light." Fire erupted in front of his face, enveloping his face in a glow the sunlight couldn't provide, and casting weird shadows on his cheeks from the tattoos.

Once he got over the initial astonishment, Roxas strangely realized that he wasn't all that surprised those green eyes managed to find him again. "Yeah, I did. A buck for four at the Dollar General."

"Really?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Hmph, maybe I should get some backups there. God only knows how many lighters I've lost in this town."

"Start putting your address on them. Maybe some Girl Scout will find them and return it to you."

The guy gave Roxas a bewildered look for a moment, actually considering if the blond was serious, then broke into a smirk. "Maybe I should, though it would suck if a Girl Scout found them."

"They'd probably bring you cookies."

"It'd better be Thin Mints or I'll be sending her and her pigtails out to the curb."

Roxas quirked a quick smile. The boxes on those Thin Mint cookies were green. Almost the same green as the redhead's eyes, though not as vibrant. And certainly not as delicious.

The guy was talking again. "And anyway, cookies or not, I'd much rather prefer a Boy Scout." He flicked the last of the smoke onto the ground and smoldered it with the heel of his steel-toed boot. He headed out towards the parking lot with his hands jammed in his pockets without another look back at the blond, once again taking those green eyes with him, though the effects stayed.

--

The third time their eyes met, it was summer and global warming was taking its toll; it was the hottest damn summer Roxas could remember, and he often walked around with his shirt stuffed hastily inside his pocket, in case he had to go in a store or something for a little air-conditioned relief.

As he wandered the sidewalks, trying to stay in shade whenever possible, he wondered why he just didn't go over and take advantage of Olette's in-ground pool. Pretty much his entire block was there, invited or not, seeking refuge from that blasted sunlight.

Maybe _that _was why he wasn't over there, he idly thought. Roxas didn't have much patience for people besides his close friends, and being around the entire stupid block would've resulted in somebody drowning, that was for sure.

He looked inside the big, glass window of the local pizza place, wondering how the people making the stuff could stand being around an oven all day. Then again, they probably had the A/C cranked up to the max, to balance it out. Lucky was the person who was sitting under the vent, probably shivering and not sweating balls.

Roxas's gaze lingered up for a moment and a pair of green, green eyes was the first thing he noticed in the reflection of the person behind him. He quickly spun around; the real green, green eyes stared down at him, glowing in amusement.

"You know, if you put your shirt on, you can go in there and sit under the A/C vent all you want."

"Yeah, for awhile, but this place doesn't like solicitors, in or outside the building. If I sat there fanning myself, they'd eventually notice that I wasn't ordering anything."

"Do they have a smoking section?"

"Yeah, in the back."

"Put your damn shirt on. How do you feel about green peppers?"

Blinking in surprise, Roxas shoved his sticky white tank top over his head. "As a topping? I dunno. I'm more of a pepperoni kind of guy."

"Figures." The redhead smirked again, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and twirling it in his fingers. "My treat, but you're ordering. I fucking hate ordering food. They always take too goddamn long to tell me how much it is."

"So, what, a pie with half and half?"

"Sure. My treat." They walked into the restaurant, and the redhead handed Roxas a twenty and a handful of ones. "Keep the change for a pack. I'll be under the A/C vent."

"A pack?" Roxas stood in line behind some old woman.

"Of smokes." The redhead was smirking again, still twirling his own unlit smoke between his fingers.

"I'm trying to quit," Roxas grimaced. "I'm going to be a senior this fall. Trying to get my grades up for college crap and stuff."

"What does smoking have to do with that?"

"It's my mother's logic. I don't get it either."

"Do you even want to go to college?"

"I dunno. Maybe. Who knows," he mumbled, stepping up to the register. "Go sit down."

"Sure."

Once the pizza had been made, the two didn't speak again, not even when the redhead lit up his cigarette after polishing off three and a half slices of green pepper pizza, seemingly not noticing how Roxas's own blue eyes twitched and his hands shook, dying for some of that nicotine. They still didn't speak, not even when the redhead walked out of the restaurant and down the sidewalk without a word. Roxas was confused until he pulled a single cigarette out of his pocket, something the guy had left behind instead of his green, green eyes.

--

The next time their eyes met, the leaves were dry and crinkly, floating from their mother branches and onto the earth, only to be crunched to death by human feet. It was the first week of his senior year, and Roxas was already loaded down with so much crap in his backpack. He didn't see how he was going to manage to pass this semester, yet alone this whole freaking year, especially since he was still trying to go cold turkey. Emphasis on the _try_, since he'd gone through two more packs since that single summer dose. Hmph.

The leaves cackled under his big feet, sounding like explosives in the still, autumn air. Maybe he could get his mother to actually think that they _were _explosives, and they'd move far, far, away to a place where there was no such thing as a senior year, college expectations, or SAT's. Ha, as if a place like that even existed.

He dumped his backpack on the ground about two blocks from his house, desperately needing to calm down before he was forced inside his empty hole of a house. He jammed his headphones into his ears and cranked his Ipod up on some underground punk music before slipping a cigarette and a lighter from his pocket. He'd done okay this time around, two weeks without any nicotine—but the stupid two-ton amount of homework in his bag was the last straw.

Roxas leaned his head against the wall with his eyes closed, one foot propped up against it. He tuned everything out, even the music blasting in his ears even though it was loud enough for the passerby's to hear it. He just wanted to tune _everything _out from the world, especially the stress, but he supposed that's what the smoke in between his fingers was supposed to help him do.

When had everything gotten so complicated? He wanted an answer and he didn't; he wasn't even sure if that was really the big question. Was he destined to be another three-pieced suited, balding businessperson roaming the streets in hopes of scoring another deal? Maybe, if he ended up going to college and studying business like his mother wanted.

He opened his eyes and saw a man holding a briefcase walk by, yammering on his top-of-the-line cell phone. The man was balding.

Roxas frowned and took a deep drag from his cigarette, wondering if that man's mother had made him choose the path he was on. Or maybe it was his father, hell, even aunt, uncle, whoever. Did anybody really have a say in what they did anymore? It was impossible to tell.

Suddenly, in the midst of all the black, Roxas caught onto a dash of green, green eyes, and then vibrant red. Finally, color filled his vision, which was odd since the color-bearer probably wore and owned more black clothing than the entire city combined.

A cancer stick was hanging out of the redhead's mouth, and Roxas realized it was unlit as he approached the blond. He quickly turned down the volume on his Ipod. "Got a light?"

Roxas nodded, digging his lighter out of his pocket and flicking the flame on. The redhead lit the smoke, taking a deep drag and letting it out slowly. "Thanks."

"Mhmm."

"So what the hell is this giant piece of crap you're standing next to?"

"Schoolwork. And it's the first week back, too."

"No kidding. Shit, dude. That almost makes me glad I dropped out."

"You dropped out?" Roxas wasn't really surprised, for whatever reason.

"Yeah. Hard to support the roof over your head when your mother's non-existent and your father's a deadbeat." He snorted, taking another drag. "At least my job's decent. But someday I'll go and get my GED like a good little boy."

"Where do you work?"

"The music store downtown. My friend got me the job, but it's weird because he got fired. Apparently he spent more time listening to David Bowie CD's than restocking them."

Roxas frowned. He didn't want to pry into this guy's private life, and yet, something in his mind urged him on. "How is working in a music store enough to pay to keep a house going?"

"It's not. That's where the government comes in. I have no clue why the hell they give me money, but they do, and I'm not going to ask questions about it. As long as I'm still allowed in my house and to blast the free CD's I get from my job, it's cool."

"Sounds rough." Roxas wasn't being sarcastic; he honestly felt sympathy for the redhead. He suddenly realized that he was probably lucky that his mom cared about his future, however much Roxas didn't want that future. Still, she cared, she was around, she supported him. It was far too easy to forget that sometimes.

"Yeah." The guy took another deep drag from his cigarette, the smoke escaping from his mouth and curling into the air like steam. Roxas suddenly realized that there was more to those eyes besides the fact that they were greener than green. There was misery, hope, depression, light, dark, happiness, sadness. There was an entire life in them.

Something beeped, and the redhead glanced at his watch, cursing to himself. "I'm gonna be late," he muttered before nodding at Roxas and taking off down the street, leaving those green, green eyes behind fastened to Roxas' heart.

--

It was almost like the first time their eyes met. It was snowing, finally snowing, the damn day _after _Christmas. The snowflakes were slow, like they didn't have permission to be there. Roxas wanted to swat them all away, or maybe melt them with his lighter.

The thought of the flame made Roxas impulsively pull a smoke from the pack in his pocket and stick it between his lips. He'd given up on trying to quit; this year had been stressful enough without trying to go cold turkey. Maybe he'd pick up some nicotine gum when he got extra cash.

He fiddled around his other pocket for his lighter, watching the people walk by for moment. Some of them didn't even notice they snow; they were too busy yapping on cell phones or preoccupied with other affairs. Some were bothered by it, brushing the crisp white flakes off of their stiff, black coats. He vaguely wondered why, if people were so desperate to fit it and go with the flow, they wore such dark colors against the white of the snow. The contrast was truly startling if you looked hard enough.

The first snowfall of the year, and yet he couldn't work up any boyish enthusiasm over it. Maybe stress killed your inner child, destroyed all desire for snow angels and snowball fights and snowmen. Roxas had always heard that enough stress wrecked havoc on your body, but who knew what the underlying effects were?

He squeaked a sigh through his nose, finally bringing up his lighter and tried to flick the flame to life. When nothing but a few sparks appeared, Roxas groaned when he noticed all of the fluid was gone. Damn, he'd been smoking more than he thought. And he didn't have a dollar to go buy a few at the General. Crap.

There was a sudden flame in front of his face, and then almost expectantly, green, green eyes that were brighter than any flame that lighter could have produced. Roxas lit the cigarette, taking a few puffs before letting it fall in between his fingers. "Thanks."

"No problem. The name's Axel."

Roxas almost choked on his smoke, but quickly turned it into a small cough. "Roxas."

"Here, I've got a dollar," Axel said, shoving a George Washington into the blond's hand. "Go buy your own fucking lights."

"Thanks. Are you coming?"

"Nah, I'll finish this thing." He took a drag. "Don't be long, or I'm leaving."

"Sure," Roxas replied, before entering the Dollar General with the bill clutched in hand. They were still a buck for four, and as soon as he made he purchase, he ran outside without really meaning to and found Axel in the same position he'd left him in.

"Took you long enough. Up for pizza?"

"Half pepperoni."

"Whatever floats your boat."

They walked, and the snow melted against Roxas's scalp and on Axel long black coat, soaking them through with the flakes of the first snowfall. And Roxas somehow knew, as they stood in line to order their half-green pepper, half-pepperoni pizza, that those green, green eyes wouldn't be going anywhere unless Roxas told them to, and he knew he'd be seeing that greenest green for a very long time.

-- --

I don't know. I've been feeling really down and depressed over the last few days and couldn't bring myself to write the normal fluff that I usually do, but I didn't want to write something horribly angsty either. And this is the result. Wooo.

**Reviews **are very much appreciated, especially for this. I normally don't write like this, and I'd like to know how I did.


End file.
